


Nightmares

by Jubalii



Series: London Nights [8]
Category: Hellsing
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 13:09:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7053097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jubalii/pseuds/Jubalii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one is immune to nightmares; not even nightmares themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

                _Tossing and turning in a ship of corpses_ ….Alucard couldn’t seem to place _where_ he was; in fact, it seemed as though he were in many places at once. In one moment, he was being led through the masses to the executioner’s axe, another and he was facing off against van Helsing against the dawning sun, and in the next he was standing on the ruins of his castle, calculating how high he’d have to be for a jump to dash out his brains and end his existence. Now, he seemed to be on a ship in a storm, rolling across the waves. He slipped and slid on the deck, the blood-drained bodies of servants and sailors alike sliding along with him.

                He managed to pull himself onto the helm and stood; his hair whipped about his face and the wind raged in his ears, salty spray nearly blinding him. He saw the wave coming, looming up over him and the ship. He knew there was no way, even with the help of his dark shadows, that he could move the ship in time. It would go down, and take him with it. He’d rot at the bottom of the sea, unable to find land and unable to find nourishment. His body would mummify and eventually break away, his mind still intact as he died a slow, painful death.

                Above the roaring of the wind, he thought he heard something. Panic blossomed in his chest, his mind racing to find some way around the death he was looking at. He’d done it before—he was no longer human. Would there be another channel for him to escape through again? He heard the same thing again, and it was loud enough to make him turn and look back towards the cabin.

                It was louder than the wind and the rain. It sounded almost like a voice, calling him. But it wasn’t calling _him,_ was it? He couldn’t make out the words, and he knew there was no one alive on the ship except himself. But still, he couldn’t help but scan the deck with piercing eyes as lightning flashed overhead, turning everything white before plunging all into darkness once more.

                Still, the voice persisted. Was it an angel, calling him to his Judgment? He strained to hear the noise, knowing that even if he couldn’t make out the words, it pertained to him somehow. He closed his eyes, trying to block out everything else. He lost his footing and shouted in alarm as he nearly slid off the side of the ship. His back slammed against the wooden railing and he grunted in pain, losing his concentration. The ship shook, wood creaking as the storm ripped it apart, and he felt his body shaking as the ship tossed from side to side.

                He closed his eyes once more, not wanting to see the wall of water rushing up to him. Then, in the darkness behind his eyelids, he heard it once more and knew exactly what it was. Somehow he knew, even though it couldn’t be happening, and shouldn’t be happening. His world twisted as the ship began to capsize.

                _Oh… It’s you._

                His eyes opened as it felt like he was splashed with icy water and he let out an involuntary gasp. The world was dark and blurry, and he managed to focus on red shimmering right in front of his face. The scarlet shifted into a set of eyes awash with concern, and he realized that it had all been a vivid nightmare. He was in his chair, the shaking had been hands on his shoulders, and the noise had been his name being shouted.

                “Alucard?” The same voice, this time hesitant, called his name once more. He looked up at her and slapped her hands away.

                “What are you doing here?!” he snarled, unable to help himself. He was horrified that Seras would see him this way, asleep. What had she been doing in his room to begin with? She backed away, her eyes wide she stared warily at his cheeks.

                “Y-you were shouting, in your sleep,” she explained softly. “I didn’t want you to wake Sir Integra up.” He was about to shout at her again when her meaning sat in. In her mind, it was better for her to see him this way, then for him to suffer the mortification of his master seeing him in the midst of a nightmare.

To be honest, he would rather Seras see him than Integra; Integra may know more about his weaknesses, but Seras could understand more. He didn’t know _why_ he thought of it that way, but it was nearly instinctive to think so. He settled back in his chair, running a hand over his face. He felt wetness through the gloves and paused, his hand over his eyes. Had he—he’d been crying.

He pulled his hand back and glared in mingled disgust and shock at the red stain spreading across the white cloth. He froze, a thousand options cropping up in his mind, but unable to pick the best one. He could pretend like it didn’t bother him. He could beat her within an inch of her life and order her to never speak of what she’d seen. He could demand that she leave and never look at him again. He could show her how serious he was and make her swear on the graves of her moldering parents’ bodies that she would never breathe a word of this day.

But he couldn’t seem to make up his mind. A phantom touch lingered on his face and he jerked back to see that she was wiping away the streaks with the edge of her pajama sleeve. Her face was set in grim determination, and he suddenly knew that she would never say anything about it. He let her finish, his hand still motionless in the air. She met his eyes when she was done and gave him a gentle smile before standing up fully and stretching.

“It’s not even noon yet,” she announced with a yawn. “A little too early for me. I’m going back to bed. Good day.” She turned without any more ceremony and left the room, shutting the door behind her. He followed her aura up to her bedroom, where she stayed. He kept an eye on her until he was sure she was asleep before relaxing himself.

His heart still felt as though his pulse would race, and he felt his jugular with two fingers. There was nothing there, just as it had been these past centuries. He nodded in satisfaction and closed his eyes, preparing his mind to go back to sleep. He dozed the rest of the day, his dreams filled with crimson rivers and soft smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something-something. If you squint, there's fluff material, I suppose. It's however you want to take it.


End file.
